Katlin And Missy: Ch 4 – Sunrise
I suppose Mark is my dream lover. I have this fantasy about men a bit older than me. I suppose I want to be Missy and Katlin and now Sunrise who's known as Jenny off the trail. Well, I hope you all enjoy chapter 4.
Love and kisses, Cathy
ps: I don't really know much about the Continental Divide Trail (CDT). My last boyfriend thru hiked the Appalachian Trail (AT) a few years back on a one year break from college. So most of what I invented about the CDT is based on his AT stories. For you non-hikers the US has three of these two thousand plus mile hiking trails. The third one is the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT).
Katlin and Missy: Chapter 4 – Sunrise
Sunrise is my trail name. I wasn't the only solo woman hiker doing the CDT, but there weren't that many. The people on the trail were fine, even the guys who politely tried to hit on me. In fact I definitely enjoyed some of the attempts that had been made to seduce me. But most times I felt the offers were more complimentary than serious. Sex was impossible in the shelters, almost impossible in a tent unless you were camping by yourselves, and probably not very comfortable even then. With several of these men I might have accepted an invitation to share a motel room, a shower, and a bed, in town. Especially the shower, though after a good shower sharing the bed would be pretty nice too. But sex without getting cleaned up first didn't appeal to me much, nor that much to my suitors either, apparently. Most of them had seemed almost happy that I just wanted to remain friends. In truth, I was both excited and frustrated by the male interest. Excited because I hadn't gotten into the dating scene after my divorce and it had been twelve years since I'd played the game. Hiking isn't the same as going to singles bars, where flirting is the rule, not the exception. But it was still nice that there were these men who seemed to notice that I was a female under the dirt and sweat.
There is this problem getting off the trail. That motel room would be aweful welcome right now, either with or without a man waiting for me in a big soft bed. The problem was always getting from the trailhead to town. Getting back wasn't difficult. In that direction taxis worked fine. But hitching to town scared me a lot more than bears in the forest. And I was out of supplies. I had to make another trip into "town". The last time, a bit more than a week earlier, I'd left the trail with two guys, so I'd felt much safer. Safe from them too, unfortunately. They were both just out of high school and I'm thirty-five. Not that they didn't get my juices flowing. But to eighteen year olds, an attractive woman almost their mother's age reminds them too much of their mother. If I could have gotten that nice warm shower first I'd have been tempted to try a little seduction. But I'm only fantasizing. I wasn't on the pill and wasn't even carrying condoms. Anyway, it was nice hitching with these two men, much safer than doing it alone. But this time I was alone.
There were always a few cars parked at these trailheads, places where the trail crossed a road. To the thru hikers they were road crossings, but everyone called them trailheads. The cars were always empty and I paid them no attention. I was wondering how many cars would pass on the road and how long it would take to get a ride to town and would this be the time I'd get beaten up and raped? Scratch that. Nothing's going to happen other than the fact that I was in for a tiring wait. Surprising as it seems, I get rides quicker when I'm in a mixed group. Maybe the real Samaritians are afraid they'll be mistaken for the bad guys who have a special interest in picking up a single woman.
As I walked by, however, I was startled to notice a minivan with the windows open and two people inside. My first reaction was panic, though in general, hikers, coming or going were probably much more trustworthy than the average motorists using the road. Then I noticed that both people were young women nursing babies. Talk about a flip-flop! Could anything be more prosaic then two young mothers feeding their babies?
"Hi!" said one as her baby pulled away, apparently satisfied with his meal. The girl made no attempt to hide her nipple from view. She could probably see that I was a woman, but I sensed that this girl might have given a passing male the same view. The other girl was bent over her charge, but look to be almost as young. I had no children, but these girls could almost be my daughters. And they were both mothers!
"We're waiting for my husband. He told me what shelter he was in last night." She told me the name of it. "He didn't think he'd get here until about mid day tomorrow. Does that sound right? Since we had time to kill we decided to come and check out the trail head. But if there's no chance Mark will get here today we'll probably head back into town as soon as Mark finishes his lunch. Matt here's already done. He's a fast eater."
"Mark, Mark? Oh your husband and you friend's baby have the same first name. Anyway, if your husband's fast he could be here mid day tomorrow. Not sooner. Do you mind if I ask you how old you are?"
Missy giggled. Apparently people always did double takes when they saw her with her baby. She looked younger than sixteen, even after a pregnancy.
"Seventeen in three months. My friend's name is Katlin. Mrs. Katlin Lane. She's really old. Seventeen tomorrow. We're hoping Mark can be with us to celebrate. Already a mother, married and divorced. She's the ex Mrs. Mark Lane. I'm the current one. These are both his babies. Are you just crossing the road or would you like a lift into town?"
I had difficulty believing my luck. But I was hardly thinking about how fortuitous it was having run into these two teenage mothers. Mostly I was trying to adsorb what I'd just heard. Missy had blurted it all out very quickly. In addition to the fact that I couldn't make heads of tails of what Missy was saying, I also couldn't hear her very well. I hadn't, however, missed the invitation. That had been said carefully, not in a nervous rush the way the earlier sentences had been delivered.
"Oh, I'm Missy. Missy Lane. I love saying that. I've been married three months, but I can't stop saying it. I'd like to call myself Mrs. Mark Lane, but that's not fair to Katlin. She had to give him up so I could marry him before Matt came into the world."
"Sunrise. Oh bother that business. I'm Jenny Lifsig. Missy and Katlin. The two girls who got kidnapped and showed up again eight months pregnant."
"You've heard about that?"
"Hasn't everyone. It was in all the papers."
"Well, they didn't show us any papers in the cell they kept us in. We weren't even allowed to talk to them. I still shudder when I think of what they did to us to "teach" us to obey th…"
"Missy, shut up. Talk about something else. That still bothers me. Tell her about Mark. Tell her about something pleasant."
"Mark. Well, if they hadn't thrown him in with us, I don't know what I'd have done. We were nabbed first, about five days before him. There we were both naked and suffering from what they did to us, their "lessons". But when they dropped him in the cell with us, also naked and looking barely alive, we both wanted to mother him. Actually we couldn't do anything for him, couldn't even touch him for days. I don't know how it's possible for someone to survive. What they did to him was worse than what they did to us. It took him longer to revive an interest in living. The first thing he asked me to do was kill him. He had no other desire for several days. For a while they let us have water but no food. There was only one bed in the room. For two days Laura and I left him alone because it hurt him too much if you bumped him.
"After two days, I think he was capable of noticing at least that we were females. That's how bad shape he was in. All three of us were naked together for four months. As soon as we noticed him noticing us, we sort of shameless began our attempts at seduction. Of course he wasn't capable of doing anything for about maybe four day. We weren't allowed to talk above a whisper and greatly feared the consequences of doing that. Beyond a whisper in a lover's ear, we didn't debate the morality of seducing the man we shared the cell with, nor the morality of sharing him. We both wanted him.
"Anyhow I got him first. I was a virgin so we had to do it very carefully. Especially since he was still so sore from what the bitches did to him."
"Aren't you forgetting the dildo, Missy?"
"Ok. So I wasn't that much of a virgin. But I'd never had a man inside me. The next day Katlin seduced him. We think she got herself pregnant that first time which is why Mark's two weeks older the Matt. Mark got me the first time possible. But my previous period was two weeks later than Katlin's. Actually, there wasn't anything at all else to do other than fuck, and we were both in love with Mark by then. Anyway, all three of us expected to die, even wanted to die initially, and didn't worry in the least about getting pregnant. I never expected to live long enough to see myself give birth.
"Anyway, sex with Mark was the nice way of getting fucked. Even the nasty way was better than just doing nothing. I learned to love it almost immediately. It was…"
"Missy. Can't you keep quiet about anything?"
"Come on, Katlin. You orgasmed the first time she did it to you. In fact, wasn't it your first orgasm ever?"
"Well, yes. But is it something you have to brag about?"
"One of the guards had this thing about fucking us with her night stick. Actually it was plastic and only looked like wood. It was really a dildo like you can buy in novelty stores. Of course she never told us her name and we never said anything, and certainly didn't dare question her. We call her the "bitch". But when she could hurt us we were careful to call her "the mistress" eventhough we were whispering. They had our cell bugged and apparently could hear everything we whispered.
"The guards also had lots of time on their hands. I suppose somewhere else in the house prison they had TV and tapes. The one in charge liked to take a break from solitare and rape the two of us. But not Mark. She had no interest in male fannies. She only used his dick once when he'd just arrived and was tied naked spread eagle to the bed. After fucking both her holes on his pole, she made him cume in her mouth. As soon as she'd tasted his sperm, she used erectric shock on his scrotum and penis, sending him into unconscious and almost unending pain when he eventually came out of his shell. Not a nice woman!
"She didn't use the rape toys to pop our cherries. We had to keep dildos inside ourselves all the time right from the beginning. I guess that first day the vaginal one was the ruin of my hymen. Katlin at least had done her's months earlier in her own bedroom."
"Vaginal dildo?" I asked.
"Yeah. they also made us keep these anal plugs in our fannies. Didn't hurt much in spite of their size. But they had a kicker, a shocker that could slam your insides. The electric shock inside your fanny hurt even more than from the ones we wore on our necks. Fortunately we never earned more than a fraction of a second punishment in either place. A continuous jolt could
probably kill a person."
"The head guard wasn't consistently mean. She did liked raping girls but she never hurt us a lot like she did Mark. I think the bitch's efforts made us even hornier than we would have been otherwise. I couldn't wait until Mark was well enough for me to seduce him."
"Wait a minute. I imagine the male guards raped you if this was going on every day with the "bitch". How do you know Mark is the father of your babies?"
"There weren't any male guards. All we ever saw were three women who could have been sister, all tall, strong and dangerous. But the other two didn't seem to have any sexual interest in us. I think they were lovers and the bitch boss was odd woman out."
"The three of us remained together in the cell for about four months. Lovers the last three months only because we loved each other. Since Katlin and I were both pregnant they didn't care if Mark fucked us or not. When they took him away Katlin and I cried. We assumed they killed him, though they implied they still had him in another cell. They only wanted him to stud us and it seemed unlikely they'd continue feeding him. They said, and we believed, that he'd been kidnapped at random for no other reason than that he was male and convienent."
"So they haven't caught them yet."
It wasn't actually a question. I assumed I'd have heard if there'd been a break in the case.
"No. Probably never will. These women were professionals. They're not going to spill the beans bragging in a bar which is the usual way old crimes get solved. They were just getting paid, not emotionally involved. The police tell us that those kinds of criminals don't make many mistakes. The women did nothing to disguise themselves, which is why I was certain they'd kill us in the end. The only one I heard talk much was the bitch. Maybe the others didn't speak English. The most popular theory is that they were brought in from another country. So we'll never learn anything about our immediate kidnappers. And we already know who paid them."
"Yeah. They kept it out of the papers. Though I don't see how it's going to help the investigation to keep it secret. We were given a message. I found it taped on my belly when I woke up in the motel. It said "Tell your fathers John Steele says hello from his grave." From which we can see immediately that they'd never planned to kill us, just get us pregnant.
"This John Steele died about five years before we were kidnapped. A bitter old man who would have left his fortune to his daughter, if she hadn't killed herself years earlier. Her mother had also taken her own life a few years before that. The daughter was pregnant out of wedlock. But there must have been other problems because she was only in her second month and could easily have had an abortion. Apparently the man spent a portion of his fortune before he died setting this thing up with some organized crime syndicate. Probably had some independent means to insure his contract was fullfilled before payment was made. But it certainly wasn't done personally because they buried him years ago. Toward the end he went crazy making all these accusations against our fathers blaming them, apparently, for his daughter's suicide.
"Both our fathers remember dating her a few times, but never getting to first base. She had other guys she was going to bed with. One theory is she never told her father about her serious lovers and he thought one of our dad's was the one who knocked her up. My bet is the old man was the one who drove her to suicide, then wanted to blame someone else without bothering to do any real investigation. Obviously he was crazy. But he wasn't so crazy that he didn't know how to set up something like this in a way that worked even after his death.
"I'm sure he never wanted us to fall in love with the father of our babies. Nor did he imagine we'd marry the guy. Our babies aren't even bastards. They both have their father's name. If he'd thought about such an outcome he'd have probably specified that the father had to be a guard. But instead, as luck would have it the contract went to a team of Amazons who needed a random male to impregnate us. Mark. Our lover. A random male!
"By the way, they nabbed Mark at one of these crossings you people call trailheads.
"I imagine Steele had no trouble finding out that both our fathers had daughters and how old we were. The timetable was probably set up so that Katlin and I would both be a good age for getting raped and knocked up." The two young mothers showed a flattering interest in my background. But compared to them mine was fairly mundane. A short marriage with no children. Working fourteen years as a teacher. Taking a leave of absence so that I could attempt to thru hike the entire CDT. An hour earlier I would have been proud of that and eager to brag about hiking the thing, a woman by herself. But the girls' adventure was the thing people wrote books about and already had, though none of the authors had been allowed to interview the girls and hadn't uncovered some of the details these girls had just freely given to a random stranger.
The town was about ten miles away, as I had known from the trail guide. It was much further than I'd have walked along a road and I was again greatful that I'd gotten a ride from the two girls, even if I hadn't been facinated to meet them.
As it turned out, I spent much more than an hour with the two young mothers. Since I was planning to spend the night anyway, there wasn't any reason not to get a room at the same motel they were staying at. Then, after I'd showered and felt wonderful, the girls offered to drive me around while I did my shopping. Naturally we had dinner together, talked half the night and had breakfast together the next morning. The girls also drove me back to the trailhead since they were going there also.
"Look Missy, he's already here waiting for us" I heard Katlin say.
From that far away the man looked too old. But sitting in the back seat, I actually couldn't see the hiker that well.
"But it's almost fourty miles from where you said he stayed the night before last!" I exclaimed.
"Well, come to think of it I guess he told me he's now averaging thirty a day. I didn't mention that did I? I guess I should have. If we'd eaten breakfast earlier maybe we could have been here before him. Though I don't suppose it matters. Mark told me he wouldn't mind waiting. Apparently he sometimes has to wait a long time trying to get a ride to town."
"And how" I thought to myself. Hitchhiking was dangerous for a single woman. And it was also slow. Not many people would pick me up. But even fewer people would pick up guys.
Mark was on the opposite side of the car so I got out without getting a better look at him. I was extremely curious about the girls' lover. Nothing about him was in the papers. Mostly everyone assumed the girls had been raped, and the father or fathers were persons unknown and being sought by the police for a capital crime. But when he was suddenly standing a few feet away, face to face, I realized with a shock that he was as old as me. I had not been mistaken.
From my expression he immediately realized that the girls had told me who he was in relationship to them. Otherwise a stranger would have just assumed he was an uncle or some other older relative.
Missy was always the object of surprise when people saw her, a young looking sixteen year old, with what was obviously her baby. Obvious because she was always nursing him, or at least pretending to and shamelessly letting anyone who was interested have a perfect view of her nipples. Mark himself was occassionally a nudist, but was still surprised at Missy's eagerness to show off her nipples just about anywhere. But right then he was trying to figure out how I fit in with anything and a bit resentful about my reaction, although I was trying to hide it.
"You're wondering how old I am. I guess the girls didn't warn you. OK, I'm thirty nine, and Missy's sixteen. So is Katlin."
"No I'm not. I'm seventeen. Today in fact."
"Right honey. Happy birthday." He kissed her, though it still bothered him even touching either of his teenage lovers with strangers around. He then walked over and gave Missy a hug and kiss also, as well as a kiss for each of his sons still sitting in car seats inside the car.
As much as I'd have loved to spend time learning about this man it was obvious that the three of them wanted to be alone together without me there. The girls were almost friends after spending almost a day with me. But they wanted to be with their lover, Missy's husband and Katlin's ex. The obvious and only polite thing to do was hoist my pack, say goodbye, cross the street and resume my northward hike. For some reason I felt like hugging the girls but was surprised when they responded with so much warmth and friendliness. I hadn't tried to kiss the two teenage girls but they wouldn't let me get away otherwise.
Two friends of mine had done the AT together a few years earlier. In fact it was their experience that had inspired me to do the CDT. One thing I'd learned listening to these two women was that afterwards they loved to talk about it, sometimes well beyond what the audience wanted to hear, even me. And I was a hiking enthusiast. So I knew I'd probably also be boring my friends with my recollections. But I knew that meeting these two girls was the one thing everyone would want to hear about. As I started up the trail I was already constructing such a monolog in my mind's eye:
"You know the Kidnapped Girls?" Capital letters, and everyone was still using the past tense as if the girls were still being held prisoners. The interest would never die down in a decade, even if the girl's hadn't been recovered eight month's pregnant. Imagine me being able to tell my listeners the details about that!
"Well, I met them. They gave me a ride into town from one of the trail heads. They had their babies with them." Everyone knew the two girls had insisted on keeping their babies. I had never gone through a pregnancy or given birth. But I could believe that most women would refuse to give up their baby for adoption.
"And I met the father the next day." I could imagine after droping that tidbit that any one of my friends would kill me if I clamed up at that point, refusing to give any further explanation. But it would be oh so much fun listening to them beg for an explanation. Everyone assumed the fathers, plural, were rapists on the run.
As I expected, there wasn't that much opportunity to spill the beans while hiking. You didn't see people much during the day. And often there wasn't much opportunity in the evenings. Anyway, it was too good a story to spoil, something you had to present to a willing and eager audience, not a bunch of tired strangers who just wanted to go to sleep.
I was making what was for me great speed, about twenty miles a day. I wasn't a fast walker, but walked long hours. Which meant that I usually arrived in camp late. And after dark no one talked very loud or in big groups. But the third day up from the trailhead, I stopped a little early. I'd only done sixteen miles, but the next shelter was eight miles ahead. Twice I'd used my tarp and camped along the trail between shelters. Experienced hikers claimed it was safe to do so, less chance of encountering bears. But I liked sleeping with people around me, even strangers. At least, ones I'd met the night before.
So this time, I stopped early, several hours before sunset. There were twelve people there by the time I'd finished cooking my dinner. People dribbled into the shelter areas from about mid afternoon to late evening, but the places were always deserted during the day. I sat at a picnic table my back to where the trail came into the clearing, and turned toward a woman sitting next to me also cooking supper.
"I met those two girls, Missy and Katlin, the Kidnapped Girls. Three days ago at the route 16 crossing."
It was almost exactly the opening I'd mentally composed a few days earlier. As I'd imagined, I instantly had the attention of everyone within earshot. Someone asked me to repeat what I'd said and now everyone in the site was gathered around, some people were even standing behind me trying to listen, including one or two that had just arrived. Everyone wanted to get close enough to hear me clearly.
I began telling them how the two girls were waiting for a friend who was doing the trail and planning to meet them but wouldn't arrive until the next day. I went into a lot more detail about the trip into town and spending the night in the same motel, having dinner and breakfast with the two young mothers. I said nothing about who the friend was, leaving the punch line for later, and no one felt any need to learn more about this person. Perhaps it wasn't germain to the story or perhaps I myself never even found out. Because I was planning to drop the bombshell all at once, at first I omitted any of the unique details I was now privy to. Just having met the girls and spending the evening with them was plenty exciting, and more than enough to rivet the attention of her audience.
But I didn't get to tell the rest of the story the way I'd planned. Almost everyone quietly listened, so I easily heard it when people moved about. One of the listeners quietly walked around to the front of the table, though he probably wouldn't get very close and wouldn't be able to hear as well. The man coughed, quietly.
I looked up and nearly died. Shock? Embarrassment! He'd probably been listening to most of my story. The girls had said he was making good time. Obviously he'd hit the trail the next day, and covered in two days the same distance I'd done in three. I felt like crawling under the table and hiding. But then I realized that no one else there would have any idea why I should feel any remorse. I remembered that I'd so far said nothing about a father.
"Hi Mark. Did you just get here?"
"Hi, Sunrise. I haven't seen you since… "
He named a shelter I'd passed a week earlier. I understood. It was OK to admit we'd already met as long as it had nothing to do with the two girls. I finished my story, saying nothing else about the girls that wasn't known to people who read the papers. No one was expecting unexpected turns in the story anyhow and were just delighted to meet someone who'd actually met them. I couldn't even imagine the pandomonium it would have caused had I identified the man standing on the other side of the table as the father of both babies. I never even considered doing it, and later, when the idea occured to me, I realized that all he'd have to do was deny it and no one would believe me. Some probably even thought I'd made up the incident, meeting the girls. I had no proof. Trying to introduce a random person in the group as "the father" wouldn't have been believed even if he did collaborate my tale. If he did, they'd just think it was a prank worked out by two people. I wondered if even my friends, people who knew me, would believe the part about meeting "the father". Perhaps I should just say they were meeting a man, probably one of the girl's fathers. Since I couldn't even prove I'd met the girls, any startling revelations on my part would be highly suspect. Like those people who claimed to have been picked up by flying saucers. This all sounded just as unlikely even though it was true. Mark was apparently camping outside the shelter. It was crowded in there and a lot of people were setting up outside. For a few seconds I managed to be alone with him before retiring to my sleeping bag.
"We should start out together tomorrow. You'll want to chew me out in private. God knows I deserve a scolding!"
He merely smiled at me and my heart did a flip. I expected an uncomfortable experience, and he seemed to be offering friendship. Was this why so many women seemed to be in love with this guy? Nor was he even old except compared to the girls. I was nineteen years older than his wife, and Missy didn't seem to think her husband was too old for her to love him, reguardless of what other people thought. Suddenly I was looking forward to my "scolding".
"So, I guess I put my foot in it. I'm sorry. I don't think I said anything they wouldn't have already read. But I'll be honest with you." Why, I wondered, did I feel the need to tell him what I was about to say? Did I want to bare my soul to this man the way other women seemed to like to bare their bodies? I'd felt that urge a few times myself, but only with men I'd become romanticly interested in. And I'd usually done nothing about it. I'd never felt the urge to show my nipples to everyone the way Missy does.
"Just before you showed up I was about to reveal the whole paternity business. Now I'm glad I didn't. And I wish I'd had the wisdom to decide not to rather than just had the decision forced on me. Anyway, no one would have believed me. Unless it becomes generally known some other way, I won't ever tell anyone any more than I said last night."
"The girls didn't swear you to secrecy, though, did they?"
"No, they didn't."
"I wouldn't have expected they would. They've never agreed to keep any of it secret, even a lot of things they should. They're both young and idealistic and think the truth won't hurt someone who's innocent. They want the story to leak out, while their parents and the police are trying to keep it quiet. There are too many people in Tucson, including Missy's mother, who know about it, so eventually the papers will get the rest of the story. I'm sure Missy's mom will spill the beans to the press with it occurs to her to do so. She's so spiteful and mad at everyone now, especially Missy, that she'd do it for no other reason. I sort of agree with the police about keeping some things secret, which means only the girls are mad at me. But not much, and only about that. So far I've done everything they wanted except go to the papers with the full story. I married and divorced both of them, when their parents didn't want it to happen. But now the parents think maybe it was a good idea. It makes both boys technically ligitimate."
"Missy says she's still married to you."
"Yeah, her father told me a few weeks ago. I guess I divorced her, but she didn't divorce me. Technically I guess we're still married. She didn't dwell on the subject much when we were all together three days ago. I think she's afraid I'll ask her to do it. But I'm not going to make her do anything she doesn't want to do. Katlin also wants to see me remain married to one of them, either one apparently."
"Missy says she refused to sign the divorce papers after you left town. Unless she made that up, she's most certainly still your wife, no one except possibly you can ever make her divorce you. You'd even have a hard time getting the courts to approve a divorce. And of course there'd be hell to pay in child support."
"No problem. Both girls now have a ten million dollar trust fund. The twenty million is most of what I had for a fortune so there's not all that much left to go after. Anyway, I don't need or want much money. I'd rather just do this until some day when I die with my boots on."
"The taxes are going to be aweful."
"Actually, no. The money was transfered at seperate times, the day after each baby was born. At the time of each transfer I was married to the mother in question. No taxes at all. The idea about the quick marriages turned out to be stroke of genius from the tax point of view. I checked with the IRS about it. Officially they weren't happy. But the actual woman I talked to, a grandmotherly type who wasn't being personally effected thought it was a fantastic scheme. And with the babies, they wouldn't even dare suggest that saving taxes was the reason for the quick marriages. She chuckled when she claimed that with the bad publicity it would generate, anyone in the IRS who tried to question the transfer would be stupid and would only cause trouble for himself. Anyhow, if I'm still married to Missy they can't even think about touching anything I give her. It's legally hers anyway even if I hadn't set up her trust fund in her name."
The two of us walked the day together at my pace which was easy going for Mark. We stopped and pitched his tent in a grassy area about fifty feet from the trail after going sixteen miles. So for me it was a relatively easy day also. For Mark it was merely a relaxing stroll. He wasn't too surprised when I seduced him. Hell, I was horny anyway, I sort of owed him, and he was the sexiest man I'd been near in years! Of course he wasn't all that horny himself. I later found out about the orgy the girls had given him back in town. And they got to fuck him on a big soft bed!
When I imagined having an affair, prior to the "event" it was always with someone like Sunrise. She was a little younger than me, mature, and all sex. At least she had the potential. It had apparently been about four years since the last time, while she was still married. She would have been thirty-two when she got the divorce, much too young and pretty to waste herself waiting for old age! But she'd never tried to get back in circulation. That night in the tent some dam broke inside her and suddenly she wanted to make up for half a decade of missed opportunities! Why me? Why not me!
Sunrise thinks she's body shy. But that's only around strangers. Once she got to know me and decided she was going to have me for dinner, nudity became her fashion. She never wore a stitch of clothing inside our tent, my tent actually. And when we were camping alone, she'd often undress outside, and just stay naked if it was warm enough. Usually when we were hot from hiking it didn't have to be very warm. Often until sunset I'd walk around bare chested. But I didn't have tits that would drive men ga-ga. Sunrise did. I burned my fingers several times trying to operate the stove when my attention was centered on her two delightful female attributes.
She also had the prettiest little pussy mound. Once in town she shaved it for me because I'd expressed curiosity. It wasn't so much that I wanted to know what it felt like to fuck a bare pussy. Katlin and Missy didn't shave, but had such sparse hair that it was almost like they were naked. I just like talking to females about their sex organs when we're lovers. What might have been offensive has become a turn on. And I love turning girls on. Though lately in my life the females are mostly always turned on! What a difference from when I was married. I can't remember my first wife ever really getting turned on. The only time I saw a woman have an orgasm was when I was having an affair with one of the other women in the neighborhood.
Sunrise has this cute little ass. Bigger than my wives' asses, but still proportionally made. In fact Sunrise is just as sexy as the other two, just on a slightly bigger scale. Which means bigger tits, more ass to grab. Smaller isn't necessarily better. All three women are perfect in somewhat different ways. Any one of them would embarrass my first wife in a beauty contest. And I'd thought she was pretty special when I married her. She was probably still good looking when she divorced me. But by then I wasn't a good judge of her looks.
Sunrise has beautiful long legs. Here I have to make an exception. Her legs would have won in a three way contest. But my two baby brides had both just had babies and Sunrise had just walked four hundred miles. She was flat as a board where my cherrubs had acquired a little chubbyness, though I would discover later that this was only temporary for them. Six months after the births, neither one would have an ounce more fat then when I'd first seen them naked. They both have pretty stretch marks that they're proud of.
It turns out Sunrise also gets a little heavier when she gets in the family way. Now why are girls always using me to get themselves knocked up?
Because we all love you so much Mark!
Well, that wasn't the reason I got myself knocked up. But it would have been if I'd done it intentionally! My problem was that I got so turned on that I just had to have Mark inside me, even if I wasn't using birth control. Maybe I wasn't even all that careless. I remember thinking during that first day I was walking with Mark how beautiful the girls' babies were, how wonderful it would be if I had one of Mark's babies, how much more I deserved one being already thirty-five! And the obvious thing was, it would be so easy. All I had to do was seduce him! Maybe I'd get lucky.
I'd never considered being a single mother before. But the girls looked so happy. Of course they had each other. But not much of a real husband. Mark didn't even know he was still married to one of them. And apparently he couldn't even go to Tucson to see them, let alone live with them. Of course, the possibility of moving anywhere the three of them wanted wasn't originally a possibility that I was aware of, also being one of the uninformed. The money was going to give the girls a lot more options.
Let me say something here in my own defense. The conversation when Mark told me about the millions he'd left the girls happened several days later. The first time I had unprotected sex with him and probably got myself knocked up, I still didn't know he had two nickles to rub together. But I did know he had two beautiful balls he could rub all over me anywhere he wanted!
Sunrise isn't kidding when she says anywhere. When she's in heat, or should I say hot, she likes to rub against me like a cat. She likes me to rub against her. Maximum contact is what she wants, my hands on her tits, on her ass, in her ass. My tongue anywhere and everwhere, and my prick in all the good places. The first week after we became lovers, we covered less distance, stopping early. I always managed to find a site for the tent that was well away from the trail, far enough so someone wasn't likely to hear her rather loud orgasms.
The first night I wasn't really prepared for this. We were only about fifty yards from the trail. But I don't think anyone went by after dark. Anyway, no one peeked inside the tent to find out what was happening. As if there was any way to mistake one of Sunrise's climaxes. Not only is she loud, but the screams leading up to one are very verbal. "FUCK ME! RAPE ME! FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF ME! BUST MY ASS! FUCK ME APART! OH, GOD! HOLY FUCK!" would be typical. When she's not seducing me she'd blush when she hears the word fuck. As far as she's concerned fuck is not a nice word unless it's a request or a suggestion. I never use the word fuck when I'm talking to Sunrise unless I'm ready to deliver.
But that first night, we hadn't settled into our rather rough and tumble sex pattern. That first night she was like a blushing virgin bride waiting for me to harvest her cherry. Boy did she have me fooled. Sometimes she occassionally comes on to me the same way to give me variety, so that first time might have been all acting. I should care? If it's an act, I'm a very appreciative audience. I'm flattered that she would go to this trouble to make it even better for me. That first night was also all missionary type sex. Of course, in a tent your options are somewhat limited. It wasn't until the second night that we got well away from the trail until we were probably a half mile away from everyone. And a good thing too. We didn't see the sun go down because we were too busy. We didn't eat until hours later. It was a good thing we did it out on the mat on the grass. We would have torn apart my rather delicate light weight tent. I didn't know that Sunrise could do things with her fanny which would blow my mind apart, even without using anal sex to drive me wild. She kept all of these secrets secret from me that first night. So what happened the second night was much more of a surprise than just fucking her the first night.
Mark thinks I'm some kind of sex goddess. But it's him who inspires me. Most of the things I tried I'd only read about. Other things I was making up completely from scratch. I'd only once allowed a man to fuck my ass and hated it. And he was my husband for God's sake! Yet I was dying to give ass sex another try after hearing the girls tell me how much they loved doing it with Mark. I was dying to do it with Mark, that is. I didn't think I was quite prepared to do it with any other man. But the first night I only wanted vaginal sex. I wasn't protected yet wanted him to cume in my pussy. I guess I was giving fate the option of having it's way with my body. Once that was done then I was available for anything else. If I was pregnant from the first night fine! If not, maybe it wasn't fated to be.
Katlin is certain Mark knocked her up the day she lost her cherry. She told me about how she imagined she could feel his sperm swimming around inside her, swimming through her cervix and finding her waiting egg. All I can say is she has a good imagination. Apparently fate had decided that it was my turn to also become a mother. But apart from knowing it was possibly happening, I felt no different. Knowing his sperm was inside me and it was about the right time of month and it might be happening did make me feel a little sexy. But what really had me excited was simply the first sex I'd had in over four years. And good sex at that! I think the best I'd ever had. Our second night I was determined to show him my appreciation. I wanted to do for him all those things men want that women usually won't do.
When we decided to stop we bushwacked a long distance away from the trail looking for a flat grassy area. We passed up several we found too quickly. I didn't have to ask Mark why we were going so far away from the trail. Nor was I afraid of getting lost. We both had compasses, and he was even more experienced then me. Our reason for the distance was so obvious to me that every step further into privacy was turning me on. It was like walking the half mile was erotic foreplay. When we found the place, I could hardly help him set up camp. I felt delicate and sexy like if I bent over I'd start having an orgasm. Mark didn't complain. It was his tent anyhow, and he'd erected it many times before. "Erect". What a nice word. But I wasn't thinking about the tent. I did make the suggestion that we spread my tarp outside and place the mats on it until we were ready to retire. Our intentions were so obvious to each other that I didn't even notice that neither of us had said "for sex" nor needed to.
"Mark, after you've made me your woman again, would you then sodomize me also? Katlin told me how much they both love it when you do it to them. I've never enjoyed it so I want the experience of doing it with a man who makes women love it."
I then did what I'd never done before but would do most nights in the immediate future. I stripped down to my birthday suit outdoors and remained naked until morning, first out on the love pads, and later inside the tent with down covers over us. Of course there was no other human within a half a mile. Perhaps no human being had ever before been in this grassy clearing. But being naked in the dying sunlight was fantastic. I think I may have cured myself of my body shyness during the following week. But it wasn't for another year and a half until I could verify this by exposing myself to other men at a nudist resort.
When a person is born they are an individual seperate for others, temporarily not a part of the race. They remerge with the species by having babies, pumping their genes back into the pool. Men want to fuck women. Women want to have babies. We all want to be a part of the future. When you're cutting off half of your toothbrush handle to save weight why else would you be packing a tube of KY but no condoms? I knew that I was in a rut, teaching and doing nothing else the three years since my divorce. People told me there was no sex on the trail. You didn't ever meet your prince charming while walking the two thousand miles. Especially when you were already thirty-five and although still attractive, you had this internal biological time clock about to run down. I had included the KY without trying to justify it. Nor was it necessary. When I did actually meet a prince charming he turned out to be the first man ever to shagg me who liked cunnilingus. His magic tongue not only sent me to heaven during foreplay, but it also got me totally wet and ready even before my body took over that responsibility.
When Mark had entered me the first night it was like I was a virgin giving up my cherry. The fact was I was trying to get myself pregnant with a married man, one I never expected to see after a short period of time, one whom I would never tell if I succeeded in making him my child's father. It was more than enough that he was giving me his cume. I was greatful enough for that and intended to ask nothing more of him. Of course, I also thought he was penniless. I truely only wanted his genes.
I think. Actually I hadn't thought things out at all. The school couldn't make a teacher quit for having a baby. But an unwed mother would be drummed out, not made welcome. I'd be forced to give up my job even without the school board making any suggestions. I didn't care. It was up to fate. A baby was what I wanted and probably wouldn't get. If the miracle did happen, my job was less important to me. I had some savings. I could tutor. I could even move somewhere else and pretend I was only divorced. I was still using my married name. I could even imagine how to describe my condition without actually lying:
"The baby was born after the divorce came through. My ex won't give me child support without taking him to court. Anyway, he doesn't have much money but has been making regular alimony payments. If I can get this job I'll leave well enough alone."
It's amazing how much baggage can go along with a simple fuck. Of course, what's simple about any fuck, especially to the woman getting fucked? And the baggage .. getting knocked up! Still, when I felt him inside me, felt his firm flesh sliding in and out of me, that was all I was thinking about. Was I even thinking? I was experiencing, feeling. My cunt was made for this. Feeling Mark spreading me open, making me his woman! Sliding in and out of me, making me feel that wonderful, smooth friction. Making me:
It had been years, Had it ever been this good? I don't think so. I almost think I never had a real orgasm before the afternoon when Mark nailed me. Or else they just weren't as spectacular. The others, later were just as strong, maybe stronger. But the first one took me totally by surprise. I'll never forget my surprise, pleasure, and relief. I was still a woman. And now I was Mark's woman! That was a whole 24 hours ago.
Paul, the last few times he had me, always wanted me to turn around and do it on all fours, doggie style. I did it, and hated it because I loved it but didn't love him any more. I fucked him because I was his wife. And I liked getting fucked. There was no moral or logical reason not to have sex with your husband if he wanted it and you wanted to get fucked. I'd rather have had some prince charming come and do me instead of the ogre. But hey, nothing's perfect. I liked it even less when he stopped asking me. But the thing that bothered me about doggie style was the way it made me feel. When I assume the position I feel very submissive. I'm offering my lover my self. He can use me as he sees fit. Paul could have raped me in the asshole and I couldn't have stopped him. Nor would I have refused to have sex with him again had he done so. Even anal sex was better than no sex. But he knew I didn't like him doing it. And he didn't enjoy it when I didn't enjoy it. Submissive is sexy. Passive indifference isn't. He knew that if he stuck his dick in my pussy he'd get a much better ride.
Doggie style is really the same as "presenting", what a female cat does when she's in heat. It really sexy and embarrassing seeing a feline do it. I realize I must look like that when I do it. At least when I do it for a man I love. I doubt I was doing much squirming around for Paul there toward the end. But even allowing him to see me in that position was really too much. It made me feel more compliant than I wanted to feel toward that man. Unfortunately, it also made me feel good and sexy. I guess he loved looking at my heinie that way. Sometimes he'd take his time admiring my fanny for many minutes before doing anything. I think that turned me on more than his shafting. I could pretend it was some other man looking at me. Any other man, even a total stranger. But when he entered me it was always just good old Paul.
I got naked as soon as I could, actually helping with the last few chores walking around wearing only my camp shoes. Mark got everything stowed in the tent as quickly as possible and as quickly got out of his shorts. I know there's nothing special about Mark's member. It's a little larger than average. A little larger than Paul's the one I'd had in me about five times as much as all others combined. I don't think I could feel any real difference in size. But subjectively, Mark's was perfect and Paul's was just Paul's. The sight of Mark's already erect member made me wet myself. It was the penis I hoped had made me a mother. I hoped I was a mother. And now I was going to do everything for Mark I could think of.
I got into the doggie position. I was pretty sure he'd do my pussy first since I'd suggested doing it that way. If Mark had different ideas he'd warn me before hand. Still, I was ready for either entry. My rectum was totally empty. I'd had my one tiny BM for the day a few hours earlier. I'd used the KY for the first time. I knew my pussy wouldn't need it, but I didn't want Mark to feel he needed to stick his tongue in my anus to get me ready. If he didn't notice it was lubed I'd tell him. But this delightfully sexy position gave him such a good view of my love holes I was pretty sure he could see quite well that my back door was ready for him. I hadn't lubed my pussy because I now knew he loved sticking his tongue in there first.
"I love it being here like this with you looking at me like you are now," I told him.
If I'd enjoyed Paul's inspection of my fanny you can imagine how much I loved waiting while Mark did it! I wanted to make sure he knew. Of course, I also wanted him inside me rather badly. With Paul I wasn't so anxious to get on to stage two. Actually I should say stage three. Paul skipped stage two. But Mark didn't. When I felt his tongue explore my hopefully pregnant baby hole it was just as heavenly for me in the face down position as face up had been the night before. But I did get a surprise when his nose brushed against my shit hole. Fortunately there wasn't any shit in my shit hole or smell either. The touch was both electric and silly. I wanted to orgasm and laugh. I let out a small giggle, which Mark seemed to like.
I can't say enough nice things about feeling Mark's fingers and then his penis part me. "Part my folds" as one well known author puts it. I'd rather call my pussy lips "pussy lips". But Auel seems to want to develop her own terminology for describing sex twenty-five thousand years ago. Labia's ok as well, but I love "pussy lips", especially mine with Marks erection parting them. Feeling him part me was almost too much. My arms collapsed. I'd lost the strength to hold my shoulders up. I gasped, my hips up high meeting his manhood, my tits smashed against the mat. It made me open up for him even more and my body reacted. The orgasm marked the end of my clear observations of my seduction. I was down presenting my lover's erection a downward sloping tunnel. He leaned further forward pressing his weight down on my back and slid down inside me.
OH MY GOD!
There may have been no break between my two orgasms. I remember that wonderful friction. Mark seemed to have learned that he might as well just keep fucking me because it would take forever if he waited for each orgasm to finish. The pads are no where as comfortable as a bed. I didn't notice. All I could feel was that delightful piston slamming down my cylinder, delighting the cylinder's walls. After who knows how many orgasms, all I could think about was my amazement and delight that he was still fucking me, that Mark hadn't ejaculated. I'd forgotten all about the requested anal sex. But Mark hadn't.
He could have hurt me and I would have still loved it! But he didn't hurt me. Or if he did I couldn't feel it so I guess that means he didn't hurt me. And I did feel something. Something fantastic! I suppose a girl couldn't be better prepared for anal sex than by hiking ten hours a day and hardly eating. My rectum was empty and my fanny was in better shape than a teenager's.
I'm going to end this chapter with one comment: Very few teenager girls can brag of a fanny anywhere near in as good shape as hers even when she's not hiking! My heavenly angels have small, round, soft fannies. When they've spent years exercising their asses, they'll probably have one's as firm as the one Sunrise has. Most girls, however, reach their peak around eighteen because they don't spend the effort to continue improving. Sunrise is the delightful exception.
end of chapter 4